


Black Saber

by TaraRhyme



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Crime Fighting, Drama, Family, Hurt Luke Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lightsaber Battles, Meddling Kids, Outer Space, Slavery, Tatooine Slave Culture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26528980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraRhyme/pseuds/TaraRhyme
Summary: Luke is eleven, and about to break his first rule. Meanwhile, darkness lurks and Jedi are fighting an invisible foe. When Tatooine becomes a battlefield for Jedi and Sith, Luke acquires a birthday gift by mistake- a black lightsaber.Some mishaps and misunderstandings along the way, he's bringing it to the Jedi in a perilous journey to Coruscant. Naturally, he becomes a galaxy-wide hero, so soon both Sith and Jedi alike want to know- who is this kid?
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 34
Kudos: 75





	1. Tatooine, The Home of Skywalker

**WHAT READERS NEED TO KNOW:**

Qui-Gon did not die, and Obi-Wan is the same age as Anakin Skywalker. They were trained together by Qui-Gon, who is now about fifty seven standard years old. Anakin and Obi are in standard years in their early thirties. Master Windu is alive, and about seven years after his turn to the dark, Anakin was redeemed and fled the Dark Side and Palpatine, but not before blowing up his star destroyers. It was seven years of hell and war between the Republic (Palpatine was ousted after Anakin fled the temple) and the growing Empire, but he did not go down without a fight...

Palpatine is still out there somewhere, weakened, and hasn't done anything noticeable for the past four years, in which Anakin has been healing. He is still littered with faint white scars and his breathing does sometimes become difficult, but his hair has fully grown back (and his snark) and he is doing better- mentally. He and Obi-Wan had their face-off but besides a humiliating defeat and lost legs (replaced) he did not burn on the shores of Mustafar. He had landed high up enough only to be burned by the hot gravel but not cooked by the lava temperatures. The death of Padmé and the apparent death of his child still haunt him, but he's slowly moving forward. Leia Organa is not Luke's sister or Anakin's child whatsoever. (She's not really involved right away anyway)

The story of how Anakin was redeemed isn't the main point here, but maybe I'll make a spin off of it. It'll slowly become clear what exactly happened with Palpatine, Padmé, and Anakin all those years ago. Palpatine is confirmed to be Darth Sidious after Anakin's return from the Dark.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Tatooine, The Home Of Skywalker**

* * *

Luke Skywalker of Tatooine was nearly eleven, and ever so proud of that. His birthday was in two days, but that wasn't the only thrilling thing to happen in two days time.

In two days, Luke was going be piloting a real pod in a real pod race!

Luke had always wanted to pod race, but the one time he had brought it up, his Uncle Owen firmly denied the request for permission. His Aunt and his Uncle always seemed to be busy on racing days, and he always was dragged into anything they were doing, as if they didn't want him to even attend the races. The last one Luke can remember going to was when he was a little over five.

He had loved it.

Owen had beat him black for it.

But see now, in two days Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had to make a trip to Lothal. They were terribly sorry they could not afford to bring Luke and both their presences were necessary- neither could stay home. So Luke was to be left alone for two nights, while they were on business. Luke was ordinarily quite rule abiding ("no racing! Not safe, not healthy, you could get all sorts of dangerous ideas! No racing, understood?" Owen had firmly stated), but he had worked _so_ hard on his pod, perfecting it over the years, hidden off the farm, and he _so_ wanted to race. He wasn't hurting anyone, right?

With a shrug to himself to shake off any possible regrets about his plan, Luke continued swerving through the dusty crowds of people in the marketplace. Purchasing an apple from Gergoria, by far the nicest human stand owner, Luke munched away and read again from the crumpled paper in his hand what he was to buy for his Aunt Beru this week.

 _Meanwhile_ , on the planet of Coruscant...

* * *

"This is not a bad idea, I must admit. I rather enjoy the ones they show in the entertainment centers." Adi Gallia exclaimed. "Besides, this could be considered a welcome back celebration. I consent to go." Qui-Gon Jin smiled ruefully.

"Of course- for you are a skilled pilot yourself. You would enjoy watching the pod races, wouldn't you?" He said with a friendly glint in his eyes. "Though you are correct, it would be a proper celebration for the return of Obi-Wan and Anakin. They have both been very busy working diligently on their latest mission, Anakin would be happily surprised with a visit to his home planet for a pod race like the ones he used to compete in." Master Windu watched the two talk with a plain expression on his face, and Master Yoda beside him had a brow furrowed.

"Safe it is not, into the Outer Rim to travel. Not recommended during time of turmoil, such activities of... enjoyment." Yoda intoned in a gravelly voice. He was more tense since Anakin had first abandoned the Jedis, and the rest of the Order hadn't seen him return to his normal, eccentric self entirely.

"I disagree, this would be a great opportunity for some activities of enjoyment. The reason why _is_ these times of turmoil." Qui-Gon sighed. "They need it, Master Yoda. It would be good for them."

"Good for whom?" A strong, clear voice filled the room suddenly.

"Ah, Anakin, you have returned!" Qui-Gon exclaimed. "Where is Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Greeting a couple of the senators, I believe. When the conversation truly bored me, I abandoned him to their merciless politics to come and greet all of you!" Anakin grinned ruefully. "You're much more interesting."

"Clearly." Adi Gallia said, with no sarcasm.

"Now, what was my favorite council chatting about?" Anakin stood casually with one hand ever gripping the handle of his saber. Qui-Gon put his hands together forcefully and exclaimed,

"We must wait until Obi-Wan has joined us. It is only fair." Anakin shrugged, seating himself. "Though I must inquire what has you in such good spirits Anakin, you seem to be quite content."

"The mission went flawlessly. There were no appearances from the Dark Force. It seems our fears were unfounded."

"Careful. Too bold Anakin, for I find the Dark's lack of action far more worrisome. They are planning something of great momentum. But what plan of action, we must ask ourselves, would take so long to complete?" Master Windu pondered.

"Well, it is very possible that Palpatine is searching for an apprentice, or training one. Both take time and effort, and once training of a good apprentice is complete they could become a powerful enemy. Palpatine is strong, but he needs allies in the Dark with him." Adi stated, with an apologetic glance at the now-stiff form of a remembering, and guilt-ridden Anakin.

Obi-Wan then strode into the room, with a weary slump in his shoulders. He never was one for politics.

"Well now that everyone has arrived," Qui-Gon said, "I state my intention for us all to go on an excursion. In two day's time, we shall be attending an annual pod race on Tatooine." Anakin stiffened further, but his eyes did gleam with a wistful sort of interest.

"A place with too many memories for me, old Master." Anakin grimaced, a million miles away.

"Perhaps exactly why you should go," Qui-Gon said with a piercing, knowing look. "It would be good for you- for _all_ of us." Now Anakin sighed in answer.

"Well, it would be nice. To watch the races that I once fervently participated in." Qui-Gon smiled.

"Thank you, all of you, for asking _my_ opinion." Obi-Wan said drily. "But it does sound...fun."

"So we are agreed." Anakin and Obi-Wan shared a look that translated years of brotherhood.

Qui-Gon looked far too happy by Anakin's estimate.

* * *

Every minute seemed to stretch on endlessly. Every hour was a century. Luke was itching to race, and every second he could he snuck off to polish and further perfect his pod. His antsy behavior got to the point where his aunt and uncle were almost suspicious.

Almost.

But all the same, on the dawn of Luke's birthday, they waved a goodbye and his Aunt Beru tearfully warned him to stay on the farm and out of trouble.

"Who? Me? Don't worry for even a-a hypersecond!" Luke called back in response to the quickly fading figures of his only relatives. Beru said something over her frail shoulder but it was lost in the hot, dry wind and scorching rays of the suns of Tatooine's atmosphere. He stood there for awhile after the endless sand dunes of the landscape had swallowed them up. Then Luke grinned, and ran North, waiting for the telltale appearance of the craggy overhang that housed his pod. The dusty red of his secret fortress come up on the right and he sped toward it, never losing his singleminded focus.

"Artoo! Threepio!" Artoo and Threepio were a couple of droids that Luke had found nearly three years ago hiding out in this overhang. They had immediately taken a liking to him, and he rather enjoyed Threepio's sense of humour. Eventually he moved all of his tinkerings to the overhang and the droids often assisted him in working on whatever project he had currently.

"Master Luke, you have returned. I have noticed you have been around much more frequently. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah Threepio, everything is fine. I'm just gonna take the pod for a test run." The shiny droid turned toward him, and waved an arm with frustration.

"Master Luke, you know it is not safe!" Luke grinned.

"Well I gotta make sure my baby is ready for the race." R2-D2 made a disagreeing bleep. Luke huffed.

"Yeah it's dangerous, mother. Jeez trust my piloting skills just a little, would you?" Tugging on the straps, Luke secured himself into the pod.

"Ahem, Master Luke. You'd perhaps like to wear a helmet?"

"Right! Knew I was forgetting something." With another grin, Luke shot out of the overhang in his pod, helmet securely on his head. As he flew across a deep ravine, he never noticed the pair of eyes following him from below with a look of curiosity- or the not yet ignited lightsaber in the cloaked man's hand.

Luke was too busy having the time of his life. Sure, he missed his relatives- but this was a dream come true! He kept on smiling to himself, and thought of how proud Uncle Owen would be when he won the race. Surely his Uncle would forgive him then for disobeying a rule?

Little did Luke know, he would see his aunt and uncle again only on their deathbeds.

But such tragedies were the furthest thing from the child's mind as he sped across the rough terrain. He ignored the foreboding feeling that was developing. He couldn't yet know what it was. How was he to know that feeling was the sickness of the Dark? How was he to know that Tatooine was about to become a slaughter house?

The cloaked man ignited his saber, and it glowed an ominous black.


	2. Good Intentions

**Chapter 2**

**Good Intentions**

* * *

Simmering anger was a common presence in his mind- the cause however was unique. It all leads back to Anakin Skywalker who had fled away from his true calling as a Dark Lord, too afraid of the glorious darkness they would envelope the galaxy in. And now his Left Hand has gone off on a suicide mission due to his lack of self-control. Two servants who he had wasted precious time with that turned out to be duds. Palpatine confessed himself disappointed.

But mostly angry.

He fell back on the thought that usually somewhat soothed his frustrations, one Luke Skywalker. Somewhere in the galaxy was Anakin's little boy, and when the time was right Palpatine would resume his search for the young Skywalker. When he found the boy (and he would mind you), he would have his most loyal and well performing servant yet. He would reveal the child's identity and seek revenge on Anakin Skywalker with his very own blood. The indecisive Jedi would have not have the heart to kill his one child, surely. But for now, Palpatine would remain inactive and marvel at the incompetence of his Left Hand.

What fool would seek out some of the most powerful Jedi to battle without a plan?

* * *

Luke's breath was coming in short pants, and his heart was racing. His palms of his hands were dry as the desert sands and so was his mouth. He sturggled for air and rested his hands on his knees which were wobbling with the wind gusts.

But hey, he beat Darklighter and Slilwen and even Atana to the Mos Eisley landing strip. After taking the Darklighter speeder to Mos Eisley, they raced to reach the landing strip to watch the procession of arrivals. As he stumbled back to make contact with a wooden post, Luke began to even out his breathing. Most of the Coruscant arrivals had already docked, and soon the diverse crowd would come jumbling this way as soon as safety procedures were ran on the aircrafts. Mos Eisley did not have the money to pay reparations in case of a faulty take off.

"Luke!" A high shout made him spin around and grin. Atana was now weaving her way through stands of eager sellers waiting to prey on souvenir-searching Coruscant arrivals. Her face was a flushed pink, and she had scrapes on both her knees. "Darklighter and Slilwen will take a little longer, I believe they stopped under some shade." Atana giggled lightly and tapped Luke on the shoulder before pouting, "I guess you beat me, then. I _would_ have won, but some meanie tripped me!" She giggled again before swinging up onto the stone wall lining both sides of the exit/entrance to the landing strip.

Luke and Atana were the same age, but he always felt older than her. It wasn't that she was _immature_ or anything but he still felt like she was just... more carefree.

A loud blare of trumpets signaled the start of the dismissal. First would come the highest ranking in Coruscant, right down to the ordinary everyday man. Luke backed further into the shrubery of the entrance's far side. Wouldn't due to be caught at an off limits zone. But in the shadows of the old bar and bushes, he felt content that no one would spy Atana and he.

"They're going to miss it," Luke whispered over to Atana, whom was still swinging her legs on the stone wall. She grinned wide and nodded emphatically. Luke shrugged and waited for the normal group of self-important senators to strut their way out. If Biggs and Slilwen were late, it wouldn't be too bad. They can always make fun of the silly fools in their fancy clothes next race.

But the first group to walk out of the landing strip did not walk with the same pomp or attitude, and they had simple clothes. Rough brown cloth and white tunics, with a tie around the middle. The shape of a long cylinderical object protruded against the their fabrics, and one man's was open to the air.

_A lightsaber._

"Jedi," Atana nodded sagely. "Biggs will be ever so jealous, he did not get to see them!" Atana giggled again and swung her legs harder.

"Be quiet, bratty!" Biggs had appeared from behind the stone wall and jumped to flick Atana in the arm. "I had to go home and get Itobe, mum's gone to the market and father is at work." Itobe is Biggs' little sister. She's only five years old, and carries a little doll with her everywhere. The Darklighters were staying with Biggs’ aunt and uncle in Mos Eisley for the week. His parents were much less strict than Luke’s Aunt and Uncle, and as long as Biggs brought his stunner they let him go about as he pleased. They trusted him....

Itobe’s doll has green eyes and red hair and she would fight a Sand People army to keep that thing. He understood why Biggs went back to get it. Luke turned away from the his bickering friends to watch the six Jedi gracefully move forth.

The senators began to disembark and their chatter clouded the air, but the Jedi seemed unaffected. As the group walked by Luke felt a rush of cool air and safetypeacehappycalmhome smoothly glid over him, leaving him with an intense longing once they had passed. He made an aborted step forward to follow in their wake.

Not knowing what had come over him, he glanced to the left at Biggs and Atana sitting on the wall and then to the right at Slilwen holding Itobe, to see if his companions were also affected. They looked the same as ever and Luke felt slightly embarrassed. Slilwen whispered to him,

"Are you okay? You look dizzy. Mutti always gets dizzy from the sun."

"Hey! Don't pull my-"

"I'm fine, just tired," Luke whispered over Atana and Biggs' bickering. "Was replacing all the equipment at the moisture farm this morning, Uncle Owen wants everything in top condition on his return."

"Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"Oh you just wait-"

"Oh," Slilwen said softly. "Don't over, um, do yourself. you know my cousin don't have to work the farm until he was 16."

"What does that mean?" Luke bit back a little sharply. Slilwen paused awkwardly.

"For the love of-"

"Stop whining!"

"Don't tell me what-"

"Nothing," Slilwen stated with a wide eyed look, once more cutting over the bickering next to them. "Jus' saying." Luke knew Slilwen meant well, and he also knew most kids didn't start working the farm until 16 due to the dangerous equipment. But _he_ had been working since he was seven, and in the back of his mind he had always wondered if it was a punishment his Uncle was metting out because of something Luke didn't remember. However it had been four years since then, and he was a little older, and now he knew it had less to do with him and a lot more to do with his father- where apparently all problems could be traced back to.

The filter's broke? Your father was always so irresponsible.

We need a new droid? Your father could never commit to anything in his life.

Luke is misbehaving? He's just like his father.

Luke was a little sick of it to be honest. He truly loved his Aunt and Uncle, but sometimes his Uncle was a bit much. Especially when he was angry, which was most of time really.

Sometimes Luke could do strange things, and he used to excitedly tell his Aunt and Uncle about the floating datapads, the premonitions, and how he didn't climb the school he actually jumped up there on the roof! It took him very little time to see that his relatives did not find it as wizard as he did. Uncle Owen especially...

He would get so angry, and yelled about his father. But Luke got the sense he was _always_ upset around Luke- and somewhat wary. Luke remembered when Soquerr, a boy four years older than him used to bully him and his friends, push him around a lot.

One day Luke pushed back, but Soquerr went a lot further than he thought. The older boy hit the brick of the school and shakily stood. The way he looked at Luke after was fearful- and if Luke thought being afraid of Soquerr was bad, then seeing the same fear in his eyes was worse. Luke felt like he was no better than the bully. He found no pleasure in Soquerr's fearfulness.

That was sometimes the sensation he would get with his Uncle. Like he was afraid of Luke- which was funny for Luke because he was rather afraid of his Uncle. Aunt Beru was quiet naturally, but even more so when Luke did something strange. He had the odd feeling she pitied him, though he had no hints as to why.

Regardless he stopped telling them of his incidents, but that doesn't mean that the incidents stopped. His relatives sometimes just couldn't help but find out or notice. He suspected that was a reason that compelled his Uncle to put him to work. Thought maybe it would stop the odd occurrences. But really, Luke just got better at hiding it...

"Introducing in order of arrival," the announcer clearly said over the bustle, "Jedi Council leaders, the members of this illustrious Senate..." Luke removed himself from his thoughts to spare a long glance at the backs of the Jedi.

He felt a want, one he'd never known.

_If I could feel that safetypeacehapycalmhome all the time..._

_I wish I_ was _a Jedi._

Luke felt a true yearning to fall into line behind the six, but he knew he would never be one of those Jedi.

He was just Luke, a farm boy from Tatooine, with his father's life decisions haunting him. He could never be a hero.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi almost prided himself on being an intuitive man, of course as he was a Jedi so he did not. But he thought he knew his fighting partner and fellow padawan of many years well enough, so when a small upturn of Anakin's lips appeared and his shoulders slumped to release a hidden tenseness- he knew it was a good idea to come here. Qui-Gon had made a good decision to visit if after just one minute in the Tatooine atmosphere, Anakin calmed inwardly more than he had in the past four years after his return.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was alomst priding himself on being an intuitive man, but he never noticed the blue eyes under a mop of blond hair encased in shrubery- for why should he pay any attention to children playing in the bushes?

How could he be aware a Force sensitive child watched them walk away, as his very Force presence was shielded away?

Obi-Wan Kenobi was far too busy besides- he was allowing himself to enjoy the fact that his friend of many years had a less distant and vacant stare. For once.

Anakin was not lost to them and Obi-Wan knew that, Anakin just needed to figure out he was not lost to the darkness himself.

He needed to forgive himself.

* * *

"Slilwen, Atana, and me are gonna head out to the point, so you go and kick some butt for us! You betcha you're gonna win! For us if anything. " Biggs stared down in Luke's eyes, hiding his worry deep inside that he held for the younger boy. But sure enough-

"I'll be careful Biggs, I promise," Luke grinned. "No need to get mushy on me."

"Kid I don't know how you doing it," Biggs paused to ruffle Luke's hair ("Hey!"). "But it's real wizard."

"Whatcha calling me kid for?! You're a half standard year older!" Luke raised his fists and pranced around like a fighter. "You wanna go?" The grin on his face was huge and genuine however, and Biggs laughed.


	3. The Hutt Empire Gets a Lucky Foothold

**Chapter 3**

**The Hutt Empire** **Gets a Lucky** **Foothold**

* * *

His master was terrible, if great. A man only by the sinewy flesh that strapped together his bones, otherwise he was a being of divine cruelty. A better Master of the Dark could not be wished for but even he was not infallible. After the failure of Vader, Palpatine had become more wary, more doubtful of his own ingenious. His apprentice was as young as Anakin Skywalker once was and just as angry. He couldn't understand why the redemption of Darth Vader was so momentous, as he was too young to truly remember the power of Anakin the Jedi and only vaguely recalled the horror of Vader that followed.

The young Sith grew reckless, feeling trapped and cornered by the established Jedi Order. A blasphemous thought began to build in his head- perhaps his master was not all knowing in this matter. His fixation on his old apprentice, that _failure_ , was blinding him. His fear was too strong.

There was only one solution, if the Sith were to succeed and rebuild the vision of the galaxy as it was meant to be.

Anakin Skywalker, that indecisive _Jedi_ scum, needed to die.

And the young Sith betrayed his master, as Sith do, and he plotted his own schemes to eliminate this distraction. His master would never know, and if anything would reward the boy for his skill. That is what the young man thought.

Later, when Palpatine discovers this foolishness, he sighs and accepts the rage flowing in his veins. He accepts that his latest apprentice was another failure- and that he was good as dead. Anakin Skywalker was unlikely to fall when Palpatine had failed to strike him down.

Luke Skywalker needed to be located much sooner than he had thought. Much sooner indeed.

* * *

Podracing was a dangerous occupation, and borderline suicide for human contestants. The pods are built small and shoddy, often personally, and on Tatooine there was not much for precious building material. It was still something the humans in the villages would come to see, especially children. It was one of the only times these children would see the seedy Mos Eisley, and these races had become so infamous in the last couple decades that visitors from other planets began betting pools and eventually luxury trips to watch the lowlifes of a dusty crummy planet race for their lives.   
  
This made the backwater planet more visible to the general population of the Republic, and a positive turnout was the diminished presence of the Hutts. Slavers were still a dangerous component to life on the Outer Rim, but generally the attention podracing had garnered was doing wonders. Though Mos Eisley was still dirtbag central, it was hyperlanes better than the days that Anakin had spent wandering its streets.

He felt some calm at the sight of children, running and weaving their way through the stalls. They looked carefree, and not garbed in a slave's rough hewn cloth. They also showed no fear of being snatched, either from the safety a podracing day provided or maybe things really had improved that much. They vanished from his line of sight, but he felt better all the same.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan called through the force. He sent his old partner, and old friend, contentedness. There was no welling of buried emotion brough to the surface by this planet of many memories. As much as the podraces have become popular among the rich, noble, and the betting sort; Anakin was aware this was more of a test than anything else. He also knew it was not necessary- he couldn't muster that rage anymore. Burnt out by the sizzling hands of his once most-trusted confidante, Sheev Palpatine.

He had made so many mistakes, but Padmé was his worst. She had died, thinking of him- of the horrible fate he had subjected himself to. The Jedi had luckily been able to recover her body after Palpatine's siege on Naboo that Anakin had sabotaged. But that was all- her body. Until he had turned from the Dark, returned to the Temple, he had not learned of how her death truly came about. 

It seemed she had died from suffocation. The ceiling gave out suddenly, and crushed her lungs. It took four days to find her and by then it was too late.

If only Anakin had not fled, if only he had known she was still there-

It is no use circling back to the same poisonous thoughts, he concluded. And made his way in line with his Jedi Master companions to watch a race, not compete in one. He lets the pain of losing his wife, losing his unborn child, go to the back of his mind where it lives uncumbered.

So much had changed, in these years. So much. And Anakin made it to his seat unaware that it was all going to change again.

* * *

"I wish they were wearing battle cloth, like in the holos!" Luke absentmindedly nodded, he too loved the holos about the Jedi and the Clone Wars. He had seen one or two in the village class held weekly. But right now, he needed to leave the off limits zone to get to Fixer, not focus on the Order of the Jedi... The race would be gearing up soon, and he was pumped with excitement. All his time in the canyons, in the risky Jundlands, were sure to pay off now.

"I'm off," he whispered. Biggs clapped him on the back once more, and Luke shot him a grateful smile. His friends weren't going to be able to get seats or anything of the like, without credits. To his knowledge they would maybe stay here, or find a more suitable off limits zone than the landing strip.

When he, Slilwen, and Atana finally said their goodbyes, Luke made his way out into the bustling market. He ducked and dodged around the arguing customers and greedy sellers, and made his way to the race.

His heart was thumping, and he felt like a bird- seeing the cage about to open and he was ready and posed to fly.

His senses kept him from being harrassed by anyone down the street, and he did even let him excitement distract him.

Fixer stood outside his junkyard, the humanoid looked tense. 

"Kid, what takes so long?" His accent was never easy for Luke, but over the last year he'd heard it a lot more. Practically decipherable.

"Nothing, nothing," he reassured. "I'm here now, aren't I?" Fixer gives him a stink eye and a raised eyebrow.

"You don't win," he stated. "You good, not winning. But I see. You don't will die. You get top three." 

"I won't die." Luke repeated. "And of course I'll get top three. I'll try and win!" 

"Not win," Fixer shakes his head. "You won't win. Many in gure- and so you will get top three if you focus to fly." Luke shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. Life forms _did_ get hurt in these races, sometimes grievously injured as Fixer said. And Luke was only a small human boy compared to those who commonly competed! But it happened once before a human won, granted Luke knew very little of _how_ , but a human has won before. So he puffed up in bravado and smiled at the grim partial human in front of him.

"I'll try," Luke repeated. And he took his ignitor from Fixer's outreached hand, to make his way to the racing track less than a few minutes walk away. He felt a cold sliver of dread go down his spine. It was the first negative thing Luke had felt all day...

Something was certainly... not... right...

"MOVE." Luke lept aside, head down. He had been too distracted, and his sixth sense had failed him. Kriffing hell, maybe he was just nervous.

There are many spectators, more than he had ever remembered. The rich people seemed to like to watch poor people fight for money. Luke didn't care much about a cash prize, but if he won one he'd be very happy and maybe the money would help Owen forgive his dad. Maybe he would like Luke more- just a bit more, and he wouldn't have to work so hard....

Most importantly, he owed it to Fixer. Literally owed it to him like, with credits. The junkyard humanoid was expecting payment for the help he'd gotten for materials- after seeing Luke fly he gave the boy a big chance. His uncanny senses had better be right this time too- Luke _was_ a good flier. He had to win top three, he had to.

The Rodian at the racer's entrance at the bottom of the stands was eyeing him suspiciously. 

"No way," it said. "No kriffing way, laserbrain." Obstinately Luke thrust forward his ignitor, and willed with all his little heart and soul that the Rodian recognised he was not lying. With a pause too long for Luke to be comfortable, the Rodian male eventually sniffed. "Your funeral," it grinned nastily and stepped aside. "Little thing of a human, aren't you?" Luke walked by quickly as he could and didn't answer.

He could see his pod already, and he jogged past the other racers attending to theirs. Their grumbles and frowns would mean nothing once the race began.

"Force tell me!" Qui-Gon exclaimed. "Is that a child? And it looks to be a human too! There are rather frail for such games if I recall correct, are they not Obi-Wan?" The man in question was half raised out of his seat to get a better look. 

"Not much has changed it seems," he muttered, but he looked round to his partner quickly. Anakin was naturally already alert. They both remembered how they met.

"Absolutely-" he looked to be at a loss for words. "Absolutely not!" He continued with a raised voice. "Not as much has changed as we have been led to believe if a _child_ , a _human_ child, can be forced to- to death like this!" Obi-Wan was worried at the anger in his friend's voice, not of him but for him. Master Windu, and a choice few others, had been sceptical about the tales that Anakin had told upon his return. But he had more than proven himself truthful to Obi-Wan. Like he had expected, Windu was now equally alert and eyeing Anakin. Surprisingly instead of a reprimand-

"It is extremely unorthodox," Master Windu added. "Perhaps he is, trained, for it?" That little mop of platinum blond hair was disappearing into his pod.

"You can't," Anakin sputtered. " _train_ a child to- I was guided by the Force- this is-" Obi-Wan laid a hand on his friend's arm.

"R-R-Racers!" Shouting the commentator from his box. "Take your positions, steady your soul, prepare- and into battle you go!" It seemed the words had barely come out before a loud trumpet exploded into the air with ugly sound.

Their agreement that no child, especially not one unprotected by the Force, should be competing in such a deadly race was in vain. Too late- because as they spoke the race began, with Anakin looking on in horror.

The pods ripped off, and a few Coruscant visitors tittered in shock. The reliable lack of safety on Tattooine must be a shock for the upperclass new to the Outer Rim, Anakin thought wryly. The small and bright haired child had taken off as well.

Anakin felt out of control, that little child was out of his control. He couldn't- he couldn't help it- not up here- maybe with the Force-

But his delibration did not get to last very long. As the racers looped, the entire stadium collapsed. From second to second, and then there was this presence of utter malice in Force- kriffing hell how hadn't they felt it before-

The rubble of the stadium had certainly crushed a few, and the Hutt representatives were roaring. The Council was already on its feet, ready for this newest threat. Anakin was extraordinarily ready, hand on his hip, ignoring the itch of sand that had managed to permeate his clothes.

The screams seemed to fade out for the Jedi, and Qui-Gon raised his lit saber. The Dark was here and it was strong in presence. They heard a resounding thrum of another lightsaber, and the Jedi turned grim.

"Qui-Gon," Yoda rasped. "Your fight, is it?" 

"I will remain," said the stiff man. Obi-Wan moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his old teacher.

"As I," added Anakin quickly. "This is not- it's not him." Anakin sounded almost disappointed it wasn't Sidious. "I would know."

"You would, yes," Yoda said. "Return, we will. Be a ploy, this may." Neither Obi-Wan or Anakin had considered that. They shared a look of determination.

"The integrity of the capital is paramount," said Qui-Gon. The other five Council members that had trekked along to Tatooine gave short bows of the head, and Master Windu let his gaze linger on Anakin, who was resolutely ignoring him. As they walked away towards the strip they had come in on, the remaining Jedi saw what had become of the city sprawling in that direction.

Plumes of black smokes and red licking flames beat down the landscape, and now they could hear the screaming again but it was not just from the collapsed stadium.

It looked to be all of Mos Eisley.

A tall figure, shrouded by a thick black cloth, stood with an ignited _black_ lightsaber thrumming on the empty race pitch. The racers had been intelligent enough to stop, and a few were hastily getting out of their pods a little ways away. Some life forms were rising from the rubble of the stadium, likely injured or greatly confused.

Foolish, the safest place was in a pod for these life forms. Now the Jedi were no longer thinking of the boy, they were far more focused on this threat.

Anakin stepped before Qui-Gon, who's displeasure he felt. 

"Anakin Skywalker," the Sith hissed out. "You will die today, Jedi!" Anakin felt a bolt of old fear go through him, but like always it only made him stronger. "You are a blemish to my Master's prowess!" Anakin flinched at that. So Sidious was out there, and found this one to train in the stead of his failure with Anakin.

He shouldered on.

"I think you are mixing up my fate for yours."

"There is no escaping the past," rasped the cloak. "It is happening right now, and it will continue to happen in your future. Time is constantly instantaneous." But this time, the scarred man showed no flinch to the reminder of his past, or his fervent emotions surrounding it that refused to allow him to forgive himself.

"Then your end was written in every moment you've spent, just wasting your time," Anakin spat while unsheathing his saber. It crackled electric blue. "Come meet me, your inevitable death, Sith!" The Darth hissed and his blade charged as well- but he instantly thrust it to the side and skewered a young Bothan running by, strapping and long-legged, now dead. Anakin sucked in a breath and parried forward, determined not to look at the slack jawed barely-teen that lay prone on the dirt ground.

The sizzle of the lightsabers was exhilarating, each thrust met with a quick lunge or well practiced dodge. Qui-Gon stepped up to parry, and he saw Obi-Wan circle around. They were ready, a team like they used to be.


	4. The Hutt Empire Continues to Gain a Lucky Foothold

**Chapter 4**

**The Hutt Empire Continues to Gain a Lucky Foothold**

* * *

Luke skidded around the corner and choked out a cough, black smoke filling his nostrils, nearly tripping over the still form of a human woman. He felt his heart pang, and wished to check on her, but his friends were yet to be found, and staying here would mean certain death. His senses warned him. So the lean boy stumbled on.

"Luke!" The boy in question rubbed his sooty eyes and tried to follow that voice. "Luke!" It seemed further away now... A scream and a loud bang exploded nearby and Luke winced, smacking his hands to his ears. It was too late, they were ringing like bells.....

....He had saw the stadium fall, and it haunted him all the way to his jerky landing outside of Fixer's junkyard. He needed desperately to leave the track- it took all of his self control not to speed away into the desert in his little pod.

Something really bad was happening, and the streets were becoming darker and darker. It was nowhere near night, but it was steadily getting darker. Luke realised- once he'd gotten out of the pod- it was the sky filled with smoke. Life forms were rushing out of cantinas, shops, holding as much as they could manage.

Something really was _terribly_ wrong. Mos Eisley was on fire and he needed- well, he didn't know what he needed. He was going to warn Fixer...

He ran inside of the junkyard, and then into the makeshift mechanics shop, to find it empty. Fixer was gone, or at least not here. And Luke had that bad feeling growing stronger, he couldn't stay here.

Oh kriff! His friends, they were- where were they? Still at the landing strip? He needed to warn them, something was happening. He went out of the junkyard to find his pod gone- HIS pod- that he'd spent so long slaving away on. It was gone and Luke could barely tell that from the smoke descending on the street, it was like a thick film. He began to cough against his will. It was suffocating. And he didn't have a pod to get out of it.

People were shouting and most were running, it was getting hotter, and Luke realised with horror that the fire was spreading. He turned and blindly ran with the rest, small hands clenched in fists. He was running across the landing strip, at one point, and leapt over life forms. He was unsure if they were dead or alive. The smoke was incredible, black, burning his eyes and lungs. He went to the bushes to find nothing- no, not nothing.

Itobe's doll lie innocently under the dead twig bush they had crouched by earlier. She would never leave it behind, Luke thought with a harsh swallow. He needed to keep moving, he knew that. But maybe... no. Biggs wouldn't leave his sister behind and Biggs was too smart to get caught in the fire. They... they had to be fine.

He was back into the winding, makeshift streets of the city. Luke skidded around the corner and choked out a cough, black smoke filling his nostrils, nearly tripping over the still form of a _human_ woman. He felt his heart pang, and wished to check on her, but his friends were yet to be found, and staying here would mean certain death. His senses warned him. So the lean boy stumbled on.

"Luke!" The boy in question rubbed his sooty eyes and tried to follow that voice. "Luke!" It seemed further away now... A scream and a loud bang exploded nearby and Luke winced, smacking his hands to his ears. It was too late, they were ringing like bells.

He fell to the ground like many others, but unlike them he didn't get up right away. No one stopped to help the human boy. This was no city of the well-intentioned. Luke tried to get out of the way but the many rushing by were nearly crushing him as he crawled. His head was pounding now, and he saw, off to the side, a metal cart. It was usually to be used to hold temperature sensitive wares, resistant to both ice and fire and natural elements, but currently it was flipped upside down empty and a solid wedge of wood left a small space to the inside of the heavy cart.

A space small enough for Luke.

* * *

They had been led out of the stadium by the black-saber Sith, into the hazy surrounding town. The fire was dying down surely, most likely there wasn't much left to burn. The Sith was never faltering in the harsh smoke, but the Jedi were impaired... even if just slightly. It cost them.

"Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan shouted in terror. He immeadiately struck at the Sith, and they pressed blade to blade. But Obi-Wan was too distracted by the detached hand of his mentor in the sand, and the Sith tore away his defensive stance. Luckily, Anakin was ready and leapt to Kenobi's defense.

The Sith attacked with renewed rage, empowered by the success against the eldest Jedi. But Anakin was strong too in defense of his people. He swung with deadly precision, his personal goal clear. He clashed against the Sith's black saber, unique color, but forced the connected lightsabers upwards and twisted out at just the right second- Anakin was always well timed- and proceeded to brilliantly send the man's arm flying. That was not why the dark being howled- his lightsaber had gone even further through the smoky air and vanished.

Anakin smiled, panting just barely. 

The young Sith turned and fled.

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said hoarsely. "Remain here unless the fire reawakes, we will return." Anakin had already begun stalking off in fact. Their old master cradled his stump of a left hand with a look of defeat.

"I've grown lazy it seems," he said. "I have faith in the Force, that you will return." Obi-Wan turned to leave, but Qui-Gon was not done. "If you do not, I will defeat that petty apprentice with all the rage of the _Light_."

* * *

The air was charged with tension, as the people thinned out in the street, the screaming grew fainter. Luke watched the feet slowly disappear from his little vantage point. There was a very loud sound- like a crash- and then something like a howl.

And it was this moment everything changed.

In this moment the smoke clears just barely- enough to see shapes, and Luke crawls his way out from under the overturned metal cart to see the heavy wood table in front of him had a gaping hole through it, and was smoking slightly. The cause was immeadiately apparent- a lightsaber rolled to a stop innocently at Luke's crouched feet. Luke grasped the handle in awe, carefully looking for the end and the exit of the energy blade. Uncaring if anyone was around to see he lit the lightsaber and brandished it above his head. He felt really, really good. But he quickly shut it off for two reasons (and this is where the story becomes interesting):

Firstly, it was a heavy tool, and little Luke was not using to swinging a weapon around. He was a bit afraid of chopping his own head off.

Secondly- and this was a very important leap of logic for Luke- it was not a Jedi's. It felt nothing like a Jedi's would, he just knew it. The lightsaber was a deep b _lack_ that sucked at the air around it. 

Luke had realised that the Sith that had turned his home into a fire, had just lost his most valuable defense. Either the Jedi had succeeded- and the evil was dead or-

A loud crunch came from Luke's right. He squinted through the smoky air and saw a tall outline. His gut said that the Sith was very much not dead, and he needed to get out of here. With a look of intense thought, he decided to take the saber with him. He'd need to watch over it until the Jedi arrived. So, he deftly crawled back under the cart he came from slowly and quietly- as the looming figure walked its way down the destroyed street.

Luke tried to control his breathing, stay calm, as clammy hands twisted the black saber around in his lap. He wished, very very hard, that the bad man did not find him and that the Jedi would win, like they always do.

It was odd, Tattooine's blaring suns for once did not shine down on it's beaten, dusty surface. The fire had given the air a hazy, thick black quality. Luke had never seen smoke like it. He saw a large black boot make a purposeful step directly in his eyeline. The Sith, which is what he must be according to Luke's holo history, did not turn his big, black boot in Luke's direction however. It didn't seem like he knew he was there...

"Sith! Who'd think you would run?" Luke could shout for happiness because that must be the Jedi Order! The big boots turned sharply in the opposite direction. Luke squirmed in his cart, accidentally kicking out to the side...

...and the boots swirled around to face him for the first time. The big man was still, and Luke had that horrible feeling again that only rose into his throat higher when he saw knees appear. He held back a cough.

A hooded face followed, bent comically onto the ground. 

"Well," it growled at him from the other side of the street.

"Kneeling to pray already," came a much closer voice. Jedi! prayed Luke. Please save me! The hooded man looked up and let out a mangled sound. Luke focused on the brown shoes of his savior that stood by the dark man.

Unbeknownst to him, it was Anakin Skywalker who had just gripped the Sith by the head, ripping away his flimsy disguise. Luke watched only the brown shoes across the street that had just unwittingly saved his life.

"So, now you accept your fruitlessness?" Obi-Wan added in. The darkling's cloak had been thoroughly singed, and his pale face was instantly viciously pinkened by the dry heat of Tatooine's atmosphere. The raging fires the young man had set didn't help, certainly. 

"Weak," he scoffed. It came out more like a cough. The Sith's eyes darted away- maybe he was so afraid of his fate he could not face it. "The boy," he began to speak but Obi-Wan didn't afford him the chance. Kenobi thrust his saber straight through his chest, and the Sith sputtered and died nearly instantaneously. Anakin looked on at the murder, still holding the man's head. He didn't deserve peace of mind. He was made to suffer all terrible sights. His heavy conscience must have leaked through to Obi-Wan, or his old friend simply knew him that well.

"It was a particular case," he began.

"Please, Obi-Wan," Anakin rebutted.

"Which has nothing of note to do with you," Obi-Wan finished sternly. 

"He came for me. To kill me." Anakin gestured violently to the smoking remains of Mos Eisley. "What little peace Tatooine has afforded itself over the last ten years has been decimated, no foreign dignitary will come here again to spend their credits! Because of me!"

"We must return to the Temple, as soon as possible. We can get transport to Mos Espa, and then to Coruscant." Anakin looked distinctly miffed.

"They were right to return without us," Obi-Wan chided. "We did not need an army that would potentially only get in the way of itself."

"That Sith," Anakin hissed. "managed to disarm _our_ old Master. If anyone- _Windu_ \- had remained, perhaps he would still have a left hand!" Obi-Wan grimaced at the reminder of the incapacitated Qui-Gon. "This was another convenient test for them- that's all! Let's see if little Ani wants to return to his tormentor! If he has the _heart to abandon his partner and master_. They know I have spoke always the truth but still-!" Obi-Wan let his friend feel this anger, and let him master it again. Anakin did not understand that the Council could not understand how he controlled his anger. The Jedi Council was built on the firm foundations that anger simply cannot exist for a Jedi. But Obi-Wan had seen- was seeing firsthand that wasn't true. What you do with your emotion, that is what matters. And Anakin had spent so long suffering for a split second mistake.... seven years with Sidious...

After a moment's silence aside from Anakin's harsh breathing, he began to walk towards the wreckage of the stadium that Qui-Gon had been practically forced to remain in by his old two padawans. 

They had always been an exception, the two of them. He heard Anakin following behind, the Sith's body laying still in the sandy street. Neither took notice of the curled up child under a cart less than fifteen paces away- or remembered how curious it was the Sith did not even draw his lightsaber in his last moments. They didn't think about how the Sith had not managed to find it again. They had no idea it was tightly clenched in the palms of the same little blond boy from the race, less than fifteen paces away.

* * *

That scary man was definitely a Sith, and dead apparently. Luke tried to calm his racing heart but it didn't work, not at all. He laid there much longer, he thinks, trying to muster the bravery to crawl back out. But every glimpse of the man in the black cloak lying in the street gave him another bout of fear.

He was scared, and he couldn't hear anyone else. He felt really alone and his head hurt, and his mouth was dry. He wanted the Jedi to come back and save him too, promise him it was safe.

Without getting a speeder there was no chance of returning to the Lars farm, which was a good couple hours away _with_ a speeder. Without including the time it would take even for Luke to get to the Darklighters, which was ages closer. It would give way to evening soon, and the desert was undiscerning without the speeder's built in coordinate system. 

Luke felt screwed. He knew he needed to move again but couldn't.

And Aunt Beru, Uncle Owen- they don't even realize what's happened in Mos Eisley. Could they even land in this chaos? Would news reach the forest towns of Lothal? 

What were they even doing, Luke thought miserably, that they left me behind? Luke logically knew that travel wasn't necessarily safe with unreliable freighters, and that the farm did need looking after but... Luke hadn't done that. He had disobeyed Owen. His eyes nearly teared up.   
  
Now he was stranded in Mos Eisley, with a deadly weapon and the city burnt nearly to ash. He heard a child cry somewhere behind him, the first sound in what felt like ages, and he wanted to join in. His lean shoulders shook with the reality of what had just happened, and what Uncle Owen would do when he found what Luke had done. He hadn't even won anything, he thought wryly.

He was just another problem, like his father.


	5. The Hutt Empire Strikes

**Chapter 5**

**The Hutt Empire Strikes**

* * *

Jabba the Hutt was like a curse whispered over the whole of Tatooine, a nightmare story and a warning to wayward children. His more extensive crime family, the Hutts, operated throughout the Outer Rim. But Jabba was Tatooine's personal boogeyman.

This particular year he was not in attendance of the races- he personally thought all the tourism made for a rather dull race. Safety precautions, screenings, and the added hurdle of the Jedi attending this year. That had been a last minute surprise. It was concerning that the famed peacemakers were troubling themselves to come to Tatooine. It could spell nothing good for the Hutt, and so he stayed his distance. Distance didn't hurt when it came to the Jedi and their powers of myth. The Outer Rim has become subject to more and more scrutiny, and the Jedi deigning themselves to visit was metaphorically the last straw for Jabba. This touristic leniency was sweeping his influence out from under his feet. The Hutts made their pastime shady dealings and slaving. He was having a very bad day.

The Jedi, oh the Jedi-

They were a truly possible threat to Jabba, and he had no intention to offend their holy sensibilities unless he had the upper hand. He sent only his betting representatives to the races this year.

What he didn't know would happen is that the Jedi, and in particular Anakin Skywalker, were going to do him a big favour. Unintentionally, sure, but Jabba the Hutt was never one for unnecessary details.

The Jedi's one true enemy had struck in Mos Eisley that very day while Jabba bemoaned his fading power, and left the second largest township in shambles. The news spread quickly, as his betting representatives fled at the first sight of Sith.

And then Jabba thought with a vicious smile (if you could call it that), Tatooine was returning to its roots.

* * *

Securing a speeder to Mos Espa was beginning to seem impossible. The fire had been the Sith's little trick. It looked to have caused most of those with transport to fly and the rest had been left to burn or cower in cantinas. The cantinas burned down too. Obi-Wan was wanting for a drink however, and he found that a shame. But he was too somber to even crack that joke with Anakin, who looked stricken.

Anakin was thinking of the little human boy with a pang in his chest. Had the impromptu attack on Eisley indirectly saved his life from the races? Or had the child fled into the fire before it spread to the outskirts, and sputtered out with nothing to burn?

Just another life he had failed.

"Anakin, we must go by foot. All who could have, fled."

"It's more than half a standard day's walk," he answered. "And the Hutts will be foaming at the mouth over this new..." he shrivelled his lip, "opportunity. It's still one of their controlled airspaces, why do you think Mos Eisley is so convenient for interplanetary pod races? The Hutts will allow that."

"It will be mayhem," Kenobi conceded. "but we will not agitate anyone. And we will commandeer a ship back to Coruscant. It's looking to be the only way."

"I do not like the idea of traversing to Mos Espa. We will keep our wits about," he sighed. "It is the best we can do."

"It is not right to deal with anything Hutt, but we have no grounds to instigate anything and we need their airspace to get back."

"I know you are right, friend."

The sand, those little coarse pellets, were burrowing their way into Anakin's clothes right now, with each gust of wind. He just knew it. The sooner they got off the planet, the better, he supposed.

* * *

Luke knew he couldn't stay in the cart forever. It was getting later and later with each passing moment and he needed to figure out what he was going to do. The lightsaber was slippery in his shaky palms. The slim durasteel hilt held a weapon capable of great destruction and yet little farm boy Luke was grasping at it. it was almost funny.

Slowly, sound began to return to Eisley outside. That baby hadn't stopped crying, or maybe now it was a different baby. Luke couldn't tell.

He knew he needed to get up. He really didn't want to.

* * *

It was blistering hot, and worse the winds picked up as they marched on. They were lucky to have hand navicomputers, otherwise the deserts would be indiscernible. Mos Eisley was shrinking behind them.

Obi-Wan had a sudden- feeling-

"Anakin," he warned into his friend's mind.

"Yes. On our left." The telltale sound of a slowing speeder thrummed in the dry air. " Seems we've been spotted, too." The speeder was an old model, with only the barest remains of peeling paint. It may have been a blue or green colour once.

There was no ill intent emanating from the tall man that emerged from it. He was wiry with a straggly bread and looked very unhappy.

"You folks coming from Mos Eisley, I'd wager." He came to a stop in front of them, the speeder humming a few paces behind him. "Just came from there m'self." He glanced back at the speeder, and the young boy sitting inside it. "Lucky- in all the trouble- I found my younguns." And a littler girl popped up from the boy's side in the back seats of the wide speeder. "Now I don't claim to know much, but I remember your kind from the Clone Wars. Jedi aren't often around. We tend to remember. We can squeeze you too in- if you like. Lucky my wife wanted back to the homestead this morning otherwise I couldna fit you."

"A kind gesture, much appreciated." Obi-Wan gave a slow tip of the head. "We need to make it to Mos Espa however, and we wouldn't wish to inconvenience you or your family." The haggard fellow rubbed his chin, making his faint beard look more scrambled than ever.

"We can make it to Mos Espa this way, fairly quick," he finally said. "Now, I won't be lingering in Huttspace, 'specially with my two... but I reckon not many others coming this way for a while. Most left much earlier."

"Yes, we noticed that."

"I don't see why I can't help you two out- when otherwise I be leaving you to the Tuskens. Speeder's old but fast as ever been." He turned around abruptly. "Biggs, we'll have a bit of a ride before we back home. Itobe okay?" The little dark haired boy waved.

"Yeah!" He shouted. Pretty enthusiastic.

"Settled then," the father said. "I'm Huff Darklighter."

"Thank you, very much. This is a very kind gesture," Obi-Wan looked at Anakin quickly out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes," Anakin nodded. "It's most helpful."

"Again, I warn you it's a tight squeeze situation," he joked. Obi-Wan grasped Anakin's shoulder.

"Well, we've had worse."

"Oh, I think we can manage," Anakin said.

"So, Jedi on Tatooine," Darklighter said as he watched the two Jedi smush themselves into the front of the speeder with him. His son was eagerly leaning towards the front of the speeder. "Biggs!" His father barked. "Hands in, I'm putting the shield up."

"Yes dad, Itobe watch it-"

"We have had a most peaceful few years," Obi-Wan said carefully. "It seems that is not always afforded to the Outer Rim."

"Ah, well," Huff laughed as he let the speeder zip forward. "Not most can claim a life of peace. I myself, am lucky, to have been fairly successful with the farms... I have to say..."

"Dad's the best," little Biggs said proudly from the back. "So you're really Jedi?"

"Yes, young one." Anakin had once been as thrilled as the kid to meet the Jedi- infamous heroes.

"Woahh," Biggs breathed. "Luke would love this."

"Luke?" Itobe said. "Dollie!"

"I don't know," he said sadly. "I saw him- running-"

"So you've said," his father interrupted him. "Stop upsetting your sister."

"If we had just stopped we could've caught up to him! If-"

"It's past the point," Huff sighed.

"Luke?" The little girl asked again.

"Yeah," Biggs said. "Yeah, I'd bet he's fine, Itobe. And dad? She's more upset about the stupid doll, anyway."

It was a sobering reminder of the chaos they had left behind, for Anakin and Obi-Wan to hear about the personal involvement these people had. They lost maybe a friend, definitely a doll. Poor Luke.

* * *

This was exactly what Jabba needed. A rejuvenation of one of his most lucrative trades, and the convenient fear mongering of Tatooine in the process. Like the days of old. He blinked slowly from his chair, essentially his throne. They needed to seize this opportunity now.

"Round them up," he spit in Huttese. "The high quality sort our, customers, prefer. That I prefer. If anyone resists... make an example of the power of the Hutts!"

The occupants of the throne room jeered, and some wept inside- because they knew what fate awaits the poor souls that Jabba the Hutt wants.

* * *

When he finally did crawl out, it was because of that familiar sticky thirst that commonly afflicted the life forms of Tatooine. He needed to drink something and he was so tired even though he hadn't done much of anything today. First he took the lightsaber and tucked it into his tunic, making sure to put it inside the folds and out of sight. He stepped fully out from the smoked timber. He already missed the cart...

He looked through heavy lidded eyes as a Rodian kicked over the Sith with a sneer and then plopped down into a squat.

I've got the only thing of real value, Luke thought to himself, tucked into my waistband. He turned, back towards the landing strip. He really didn't know where else to go. He'd ran much much farther than he'd thought, earlier in the fires.

He thought of Itobe's doll sitting under the shrubs and started walking. It was still there, and he crouched down to grab it because if he saw his friends again, she'd like it back. He had the strangest notion he wouldn't see his friends for a long time. He didn't want to believe something so horrible.

"Boy, get up! Hiding does no one any good, you look suspicious," a woman rasped. Luke jumped in surprise but Itobe's doll remained clenched in his hand.

"Er, sorry miss-"

"Quiet now, get back in with the others." This complete stranger started herding him towards a growing group of life forms. People were been pushed and prodded from every direction. Luke was pretty glad to see so many folk had survived the unnatural fires.

"Miss I have to go and find my friends," he said plaintively.

"I don't care," she snorted. Luke was taken aback.

"What?" He got shoved into an angry man who did nothing more than grunt. She had walked him over to the group, and Luke took a minute to really look at the stressed and dirty looking oddballs. Next to him was a Twi'lek.

"Shush youngling," the Twi'lek said to the sniffling girl in front of them. "No time for that."

There was something happening, and everyone was grouping up around him as well. Some life forms seemed to be encasing others, in a way that Luke had never seen.

The life forms, mostly human although a few Twi'lek, were lining up too. They still looked dazed, and Luke totally understood that. But he wondered what they were waiting in line for.

"What's going on?" He asked the Twi'lek.

"Boy you'll see, won't you. I won't make you sad before your time." Well that was worrying. Luke slowly started backing away before something wrenched at his arm.

A tall, green woman-like humanoid was gripping his shoulder to hold him in play. The hand was clawed with long and yellow, brittle and curved nails. They were individually nearly as thick as Luke's arm. He was suddenly very resentful of his small build, and hyperaware of it.

"Pretty little human boys shouldn't be wandering away," the humanoid crooned. Luke took a shaky step back but the clawed arm didn't release him, only looked at him with something vaguely like hunger on its face. He was careful not to shift about too much, taking precautions not to jostle the deadly weapon tucked into his belt. "Come here, little pretty eyes. Come to your new Master. We do like a little resistance..." Luke braced himself to bolt as he wrenched his arm painfully away, but he hadn't been listening to the feeling _nononono_ in the back of his head.

He cried out in pain as a sharp stab radiated through the back of his head, and then the world went dark.

* * *

"Agh," Anakin slapped a hand to the back of his head.

"Are you alright?" Obi Wan grabbed him by the shoulder, and he took a minute to respond while the pain subsided.

"Yeah, yeah, I think. " he said. "Just... my head... must be the starts of a headache."

"We've had a long journey."

"Ha! Lucky that moisture farmer picked us up," Anakin grinned. "Thank you, Darklighter!" Obi-Wan smiled right back.

But as the navigator's ship took off from Mos Espa towards Coruscant, Anakin couldn't shake this awful, awful feeling in his gut. Something was terribly wrong and for the first time he didn't think he should be leaving the one planet he hates the most.

Maybe it was just memories. Maybe it was just the crushing, well deserved guilt. So many mistakes...

He ignored Kenobi's probing Force presence as his face darkened, and sunk into the uncomfortable chair as far as he could. This time, Obi-Wan let him wallow.


	6. Son Of Skywalker, Always A Slave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the absurd delay. Had the worst month. 
> 
> well. relatively. 
> 
> I forgot I had ao3. Been out of it.  
> Anyways, if you're new or already been reading, I really appreciate your presence. And I hope that the story's alright. I enjoy writing when I'm not a total miserable sod.  
> Cheers, onto the reading!

**Chapter 6**

**Son Of Skywalker, Always A Slave.**

* * *

There was a mild mannered discussion happening among the travelling Council members, which in Jedi-speak meant most vigorous and intense. Tensions, if they dare be labelled such, are almost running high.

"It was a spontaneous choice-"

"Not spontaneous enough," Windu said drily. 

"Adi Gallia's information was compromised. We were compromised. How else would the Sith be lying in wait?"

"Why would Sidious send his apprentice, clearly overwhelmed, to such confrontation?"

"It's suicide."

"He's a Sith Lord-"

"Makes him an idiot, does it?"

"No, but he may simply have had no use of the apprentice any longer."

"Maybe, to send a message. Maybe to say hello to an old friend."

"Mace," Gallia warned. A bright blue hologram of Kenobi materialised, perfectly timed. The ship fell silent in wait.

"Masters. Anakin and myself are on ship to Coruscant."

"Where is Qui-Gon?"

"He has stayed to investigate further disturbance, and deal with the... remains. The Force settled after the Sith was handled. It is certain. The apprentice came alone. All marks of the Sith shall be wiped from the surface of Tatooine by Master Jin."

"It's troubling that such a power vacuum has opened in the Outer Rim."

"The Hutts will not trouble themselves to fill it," Said a grim voice from somewhere off holo. "Despicable." Obi-Wan cleared his throat. Anakin's grumbling was momentarily ignored.

"And Coruscant?"

"Curiously, the Temple remains the same. We have contacted the remaining Masters with no complication. The Force remains quiet."

"It does not seem to be a larger diversion, then," Obi-Wan let the thin line of his pursed lips relax.

"But we can never be sure- if not on Coruscant, then perhaps elsewhere?"

"Fast flight, lucky we are."

"We'll find ourselves only a day's light travel behind you, hopefully."

"We will reconvene in the Temple. It seems, temporarily, safe." Anakin Skywalker stepped into view, his hologram flickering with fidgeting, aborted movements. He rubbed his forehead intermittently, wincing.

"Tatooine seemed safe," he added. "Did it not?"

Silent, grim agreement met him.

* * *

Sometime later, back on Tatooine, a boy is waking up.

Luke's head _ached_. Like someone's had squished it hard between metal plates. His mouth was drier than it had been before the race, when he was so nervously excited.   
  
The race... where was he? Did he get hurt in the podrace? Oh stars, Fixer... Uncle Owen... they'll kill him!

"Get up, blue eyes," Luke whipped his head around and regretted it immediately. His vision swam and his head throbbed in protest. The raspy voice came from somewhere in the darkness. It was hot in here, but a wet sort of heat. It wasn't at all like Tatooine, Luke thought. It was stifling, he could barely breathe. He squinted and tried pinpoint the voice. He thought it came from... over there... it seemed like it... "Up, boy. Stand up!" It barked at him.

He pressed a shaky hand to the... sandy... floor... and he wobbled to his feet. He felt very ill, like he would fall over again very soon.

The sound of clanging metal exploded in front of him, and he winced. That did not help the headache. He blinked hard and then rubbed one grimy hand over them. There was indeed metal in front of him. Sort of like poles, or like bars. Like... a cage. A cell? 

He didn't even know Tatooine had cells. No policing to require them.

"Blondie, eyes up 'ere!" Luke jerked his head up. A bulky man, very much human it seemed, was standing on the other side of the bars with an inscrutable expression. The door was open! He noticed finally, and made to move through it. The guy must've unlocked it. He was standing, shaking like a sandstorm was breaking down upon him. Stumbling forward the man caught him by his shoulder, just a smidge too tight.

"T-thanks," Luke said throatily. He hadn't drank anything in a while. It hurt. How long had he been here? Where is here? 

...who was this man... he last remembered... being... _hit_...

"Wouldn't y'know, grateful little thing are ya?" The stranger yanked him forward suddenly and Luke wasn't fast enough to catch himself. He fell, hands grasping again at sand and sandstone. The door to his weird little prison clanged loudly shut again, and is eyes had adjusted to the dank darkness enough to see some others in the narrow hall. There were many other cells it seemed- some full with all sorts of life forms. Some women and a Rodian stood behind the man that had brought Luke out. 

He had the feeling they weren't going to be much help.

Luke felt something sticky in his hair, and it hurt to touch. He rubbed a hand over his cheek to wipe off the blood, but the smell was something hard to ignore once it was noticed. The hard saber was digging into his ribs (it was still there!), and he groaned in protest as a boot nudged him over. It was less of a nudge and more of a kick.

His tunic was no perfect fit, loose and good for hiding things. But unfortunately this meant as he was turned over, the misplaced lightsaber had no trouble peeking out. A rough hand tore the cloth away with ease, exposing the rare weapon.

"Woah ho ho," he jeered. "Should've shook down the young'uns for weapons too."

"What's tha', Dan?"

"Good question," he said while Luke fought the waves of dizziness. He just wanted to go home. He would even promise never to race again if he could... "What's this, little boy?" The lightsaber was clenched in the guy's meaty fist. "What're you- some kind of Jedi?" This earned a round of raucous laughter from the others, even some of the locked up sort. He supposed there wasn't much for entertainment in this weird place.

"No," Luke said plainly, his voice cracking. "No, I'm not."

"What'da do, kid?" The guy circled closer. "You steal it? You pry this off a body, boy?" Luke paled, and tried to dryly swallow his fear. "Little thief 'ere." While the man, who Luke figured was some sort of prison guard, was fingering the blade's sheath, the Rodian stepped forward to bring Luke up to his knees. He had his hands twisted violently behind his back and coarse rope rawed his skin as it was wrapped around his wrists.

He was no threat to these people and he hadn't done anything wrong! They didn't need to do all this.

But Luke had the feeling they were enjoying it. His stomach felt sick, but he was starting to think these people _wanted_ to hurt me. They meant to be _mean_. 

"Last of the children, 'cept the cleaners," the Rodian was saying. The man snapped his head up.

"Hm, yeah. Kist, check this out. I think it's for real." He threw the lightsaber at the Rodian, but it missed- and unfortunately Luke's hands were still bound. It slammed him in the face. Unbidden, tears sprung up. His eye and cheek smarted at the burst of pain. His headache reminded him it was there with a dull throb. Luke was feeling very hopeless at the moment. The guard guy picked up the saber again and gingerly put it inside his jacket. 

"Nevermind then," he snorted. "Kid don't shit yourself, it was barely a tap. And Kist, learn to catch. Goddamn pathetic."

"Learn to throw," the Rodian, probably Kist, chuckled. "Kriff, he's nearly crying. Ahhh Dan, he's going to be in for it, huh?"

"Alright, let's wrap this up. Bring him to the front room," the guard snapped at woman with the limp brown hair. She looked very tired and yet grabbed Luke's arm with surprising strength. "Little blond boy got a pretty face. Jabba might even keep the kid." He leaned down to Luke, hands on his thighs, with a smile. "We could be seeing each other a lot more, blondie." The little Skywalker scowled but the guy just laughed as the woman began to pull him- practically out of his arm socket.

Oh.

Oh no, Luke thought. 

Slavers.

_I am a Skywalker, and I am free._ Luke thought to himself. _I am a Skywalker, and I am free. I am a freeborn Skywalker. I am free._

The shallow hallway turned into ragged steps and the steps opened up to a cavernous, odd smelling room.

Luke tried to swallow again, nearly choking. 

_I am_ _freeborn._ Around this room milled humans and aliens of all types... in various states of undress. It was unsettling. Luke had never seen such things. 

_I_ _am freeborn. I am free._ A large, hulking shape was melded to a throne-like spot in the centre. It was yellowish, puke-ish green. Jabba was as monstrous and horrifying as the children's tales but worse because now- now he was real! And with each stumbling yank of his arm by the slave woman, Luke was closer and closer to the vision of his nightmares. He was gesticulating wildly and cussing in Huttese to a couple of life forms. One was bowing their head repeatedly as the Hutt swelled with more and more rage.

He knew it was rage. He shuddered.

 _I'm free. I'm a Skywalker, freeborn._ Luke hung his head, wanting to see nothing other than the floor.

_I am free. Please, I am free. I am a Skywalker..._

_I don't feel very free._

But Luke was not thrown to Jabba's dias as he had feared- and was dragged off to one of the shadowy corners instead. He tried his best to avert his eyes from the dazed and delirious guests of the Hutt. It was hard. Now the reek of his own blood was no longer the overpowering smell, and he kind of wished it was. It smelled instead of sweat and grime. It smelled really, really worse than blood.

"Small human boy. Blond, blue eyes."

"Ah, good," a cheerful Twi'lek said. "Humans are very popular, aren't they? We'll see what the court thinks, or if we're going external. He's a bit short, isn't he?" The Twi'lek made a considerate sound, and pulled Luke's chin up.

"Young, they grow quite a bit more."

He refused to make eye contact.

_I don't feel very free._


End file.
